


Mistletoe

by thescarletwoman



Series: Six Winter Scenes -- Or How Steve Rogers Convinced Tony Stark To Love Christmas [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: Christmas!fic, Frottage, M/M, really! not (much) angst here!!, unadulterated fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2012-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-13 07:31:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescarletwoman/pseuds/thescarletwoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six scenes, each stand alone (though they build on each other, they can be read individually as well) showing how Steve managed to turn Tony's 'bah humbug' into a 'merry christmas'. </p><p>Step one: Mistletoe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoe

Christmas has never been one of Tony's favorite holidays. When he was growing up, Christmas was the time when the Stark family showed the world just how great they really were, showering the world with generous gifts. Tony knew the lies beneath his father's facade but the employees never knew. As a child, Tony didn't know either -- he just saw a man he looked up to. Yet as his relationship with his father crumbled, so did that same loyalty. By the time he became a teenager -- he hated Christmas and his father. At sixteen, he'd figure out excuses just so he didn't have to go home.

So he didn't have to deal with his father pretend to be the kind and generous Stark when, in reality, he was such a bastard.

Especially to his family. No -- especially to his son.

So when November rolls around, Tony finds himself withdrawing from Steve. It is to be their first Christmas together and Tony wishes it could just pass like another day. Yet he has a feeling Steve is one of those annoyingly cheerful people who loves everything having to do with Christmas. He doesn't want to see Stark Tower covered from tip to toe in millions of tiny lights, nor does he want to suddenly want to wake up and smell nothing but pine needles for the next six months.

Or have a pinecone stuck up his ass.

He knew he should talk to Steve about his fears, but the last thing he wants is to look like a scaredy cat in front of his partner. He's Tony Stark for christssakes. Christmas shouldn't scare him. /Nothing/ should scare him for that matter!

Thanksgiving comes and goes and Tony knows December is right around the corner. He hides in the garage more and more, putting a strange distance between himself and Steve. Because, of course, Tony Stark has yet to realize he can actually speak to his lover about his concerns and doubts. He's still operating under the great misconception that he has to keep emotional shit to himself because Steve won't understand. Or that Steve will think he's a wimp and an idiot.

He hears a code being entered up above and feet padding down the steps to his garage. There's a loud yawn tinged with a bit of a groan and Tony hides a bit of a smile. It must be late and the good captain must be ready for bed -- and is going to attempt to coax Tony away from his latest project.

It's a dance they've been doing for months and is more of their nightly ritual than anything else. Tony knows he could go up to bed around 2am and crawl into Steve's arms for the rest of the night, but for some reason having Steve drag him up to bed is so much more appealing to them both.

And this way usually involves sex against the nearest flat surface once they reach their living quarters.

"Tony."

Steve's voice has a hint of a whine to it and Tony has to bite down on his tongue to keep his arousal in check. He really needs to learn to curtail the insta-arousal around Steve -- especially when he's in the suit. Either that, or he needs to make a slight redesign of the crotch area to have a, more room or b, extra padding.

"I'm almost done, Steve," Tony replies, reaching for the micro-phillips head screwdriver to re-attach the faceplate of his helmet. "Another ten minutes and I'll be done."

Steve pads across the concrete floor and takes his customary seat on the couch. Tony watches him glance at his sketchbook then seems to change his mind.

"Tony?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"So… Tomorrow's December and all. I was wondering… what you liked to do for the holidays. Realized we never actually talked about it."

"Never came up in conversation," Tony replies, keeping his head focused on his work. He's hoping if he keeps the conversation short, Steve will drop it.

The couch springs creak as Steve rises and crosses over to Tony. Strong arms wrap around him and he knows he's in deep trouble. Steve doesn't play fair -- though Tony also knows Steve doesn't always realize what affect his closeness has on Tony. Without wanting to, he leans back against Steve with a sigh.

"Well, can we talk about it?"

Tony shakes his head. "Not tonight."

A frown creases Steve's forehead and he bodily turns Tony around on the steel stool -- an easy feat given the slick surface and Tony's soft jeans. Tony sighs, abandoning his project and looks up at Steve. 

"Soon," Steve says, a half-smile on his face. "It's our first Christmas as a couple. I… want it to be special."

"You're a sentimental old coot," Tony mutters under his breath.

Steve lifts Tony's chin, gently brushing his lips against the other man's. It isn't long before the kiss turns into something deeper, mouths going slack and tongues tangling together. Tony's fingers slide through Steve's hair, pulling the man down closer, one leg wrapping around Steve's waist. It's too easy to lose himself in these kisses, in the feeling and scent of Steve enveloping him in the first sense of security he's ever felt.

He loves this man, even if he's yet to say those three little words. 

"Well," Steve finally says when the kiss ends, cheeks flushed and breathing heavy, "this sentimental old coot is ready for bed. Would you put this down for tonight and come to bed?"

Steve reaches for one of Tony's hands and moves it between his own legs. He holds Tony's hand still while he rocks his hips against Tony's palm, showing him just how ready for bed he is. Tony's hand cups Steve's oh-so-impressive cock through the thin sweatpants and has to fight the urge to slip from the stool, kneel on cement, and start sucking until Steve's hot come fills his mouth. 

Tony groans softly and the look on Steve's face is half triumphant, half devilish.

He does slide from the stool, but not to his knees. Instead, he wraps laces his fingers behind Steve's head and buries his face in Steve's neck. There's a faint wetness to Steve's skin -- either a bit of sweat from his arousal or he just got out of the shower. Either way, it doesn't matter. Tony's mind has switched over from mechanical engineering to being balls deep inside his lover.

Which, in the grand scheme of things, isn't a bad place to be -- considering he's currently fucking Captain America.

"Bed?" Steve whispers, his fingers tracing over Tony's ass. "Please?"

There's that whine again, but it's deeper now. Tony knows if he said no this time, Steve would just pick him up and carry him to bed. 

He's done it before. Which, well, the last time involved being fucked on the stairs when Steve decided to drop him… and that's a memory for another day.

When Tony nods, Steve threads his fingers through Tony's and starts leading him upstairs. Dummy and Butterfingers, already used to this new routine, make sure everything is properly shut down and won't burn down Stark Tower overnight.

They reach the top of the stairs and Steve stops abruptly.

"Now, Tony, I don't want you to be mad…"

That's never a good statement to make. He gently pushes Steve out of the way, cursing his short stature, and looks at what was once his floor of Stark Tower. It's been completely transformed into Christmas Land. Santa's Workshop. Walt Disney on crack. Whatever other horrible gaudy comparisons one could make, Tony could apply to the monstrosity before him.

He sucks in a breath and stares at the thousand of miniature lights hanging from every possible surface. There's no tree or garland (thank god) but the lights more than make up for it. It's tasteful, at the very least, but there are still enough lights to make him nauseous.

"Do you like it?" Steve asks, stepping behind Tony and wrapping his arms around him, hands resting on his stomach. "I hope you do. I know I should have asked first, but Pepper said the place would look nice with some color around the holidays."

"Yeah, I bet she did," Tony mutters under his breath.

"And Butterfingers helped too. Especially getting the tall places. Didn't want to get a tree yet. I thought you'd want to come with me when we picked that out."

"Yeah."

"But," Steve's voice falters. "I… I thought you'd like this. I wanted to surprise you."

"Yeah."

Steve's arms fall away from Tony's body. 

"I'm sorry," Steve says softly. "I didn't realize you… didn't like Christmas. I'll take it down tomorrow. I'm sorry."

The tone of Steve's voice breaks Tony's heart. What /is/ so bad about Christmas after all? It obviously is something Steve really wants -- and the people who made Christmas hellish are long dead and buried. Maybe… maybe it's time to start over again. New lover, new holiday, new year… new everything.

"Hey, hey," Tony says, turning around to look at Steve. He pushes himself up on his tiptoes to even the hight difference between them and places his hands on either side of his face. "None of that. No, I do like it. Really. It was just a surprise. That's all." Tony exhales and, as he does so, lowers himself back down to the ground. "I promise we'll talk about this later. Just not now. Won't ruin all of this that you did tonight."

A smile spreads across Steve's face and Tony is so glad he managed to save this from being yet another bad moment between them. One of these days, Steve is going to get fed up and walk away -- but until that happens, Tony is going to do his best to keep this man and keep him happy.

"By the way?" Steve murmurs. "Look up."

Steve lifts his head and Tony automatically follows his gaze. There, right where they're standing, is a small sprig of mistletoe. Little conniving son of a bitch.

"I hid them all over," Steve confesses, bending lower until he's whispering against Tony's lips. "And you know what the rule of mistletoe is."

"Didn't I call you a sentimental old coot down in the garage?" Tony snaps back, but there's very little bite behind his words.

Especially when Steve's hands are gripping his ass and his mouth is slanting across his own. If anyone ever thought Steve was hesitant in the bedroom, Tony has the tapes to prove otherwise. Their mouths are soon fused together and Tony is powerless to control the kiss -- all he can do is hold on for dear life.

Their tongues dance together, teasing and toying as both men fight for dominance in the kiss. One moment Tony's tongue retreats into his own mouth and Steve retaliates by chasing it. The kiss is inelegant and messy, but it's the best kind of kiss -- the one where Tony ceases to be the genius Tony Stark and is merely the man loved by the geeky kid from Brooklyn.

Tony's hands find their way to Steve's waist, gently easing his sweat pants down past his hips. He pulls Steve's cock free, his fingertips skimming over the swollen flesh. He makes quick work of his own jeans, unzipping them just enough to relieve the pressure on his own dick. His hand wraps around their cocks as best as he can, both men thrusting into the tight sheath formed by Tony's palm, thumb, and fingers. Their breathing becomes labored, grunts and groans sneaking out whenever they stop kissing long enough to take in a breath of air.

Neither one lasts long -- not when they're rubbing against each other like two horny teenagers who only have a few minutes to get off in the locker room before the coach finds them in a most compromising position. Tony comes first but Steve is close behind only a few moments later. 

Keeping his eyes trained on Steve -- whose chest rises and falls as he attempts to suck in all the oxygen the kisses denied him -- he lifts his hand to his mouth and slowly, deliberately begins to lick the come from his fingers. Steve growls low in the back of his throat and grabs Tony's hand before he can clean it all off. He wraps his tongue around the last two digits, sucking down their combined seed. 

It's enough to make Tony hard as a rock again.

What little is left gets wiped on Steve's sweat pants.

"Those were clean," Steve grumbles.

"Were, being the operative word," Tony answers with a shrug. "Also you should know better than to try and wear anything to bed."

Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm aware of that. However I'm not walking around the Tower buck naked just because you like staring at my bits."

"So does Pepper."

Steve flushes at that. "Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

Hiding a chuckle, Tony starts shedding clothing as he walks toward the bedroom. It's time to continue their debauchery in the comfort of the oversized king bed. 

"So," Steve says as they both enter the darkened room. Apparently one place managed to miss the Christmas transformation -- for now, anyway. "Do you think you might learn to like Christmas a little more?"

When Steve crawls on top of Tony, a sprig of mistletoe tucked behind his ear, all Tony can do is smile.

"Yeah, I think I can manage."


End file.
